


The Storm Within

by Mandycakes



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandycakes/pseuds/Mandycakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're right. I am mad at you, Crane. Because you didn't FIGHT for me. Not how I would've fought for you." Post-finale one-shot. Ichabbie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Storm Within

_Swoosh Swoosh._

The windshield wipers filled the silence between them in the car along with the heavy rain's steady beat on the roof.

_Swoosh Swoosh._

"I can barely see anything," Abbie remarked, squinting her eyes. She drove slowly, yielding at the intersection. Partly cloudy, chance of rain had turned into a torrential downpour. Crane peered into the street ahead, trying to get his bearings about him.

"We should be close to the cabin, yes?" he looked over at her gripping the steering wheel, hair clinging to her forehead from the mad dash they'd made to the car earlier. She nodded, turning into the driveway of the cabin, water quickly accumulating in the low lying area.

"Finally!" Abbie shut the engine off, slightly jumping as a clap of thunder roared in the background. "Okay. We're gonna have to make a run for it. On 3." She looked down at the keys in her hand, thumbing the one that would open the front door. Crane raised an eyebrow wearily.

"Ready when you are Lieutenant," he grabbed the door handle.

"One, two, THREE!" they both dashed out of the car, running the approximate thirty feet to the front door.

"Ahh!" Abbie screamed, the cold wind whipping around them chilling her to the bone. She finally managed to find the hole, slipping the key in with ease and stumbling through the door. Crane closed it behind them, letting out a ragged breath and leaning his head against the frame. Abbie felt for the light switch, her stride making squishy noises with every footstep.

"Oh great," Ichabod heard Abbie's voice in the dark room.

"What's wrong?"

"Electricity's out. I should've known," she groaned, lightning illuminating the room for a few seconds.

"Well that's quite alright. There should be plenty of firewood here," she heard Crane trekking across the living room, watching his steps carefully. She reached for her cell phone, clicking the small flashlight on so he could see where he was going.

"Oh. Much better. Thank you," he turned back to her with an appreciative smile. She offered him a small grin in return, his blue eyes locked on her brown as lightning flashed outside the window again. She averted her eyes away from his, clearing her throat. Ichabod paused, staring as she tried her best to avoid his gaze. He turned back to the task at hand, letting out an inaudible sigh and closing his eyes briefly.

It'd been three weeks. Three weeks since she'd escaped from purgatory. Three weeks since she pulled him from that God-awful grave. He'd apologized profusely, and she said she'd forgiven him. Things had initially seemed as if they would get back to normal.

They'd resume their fight against Moloch, he'd rescue Katrina from the Horseman, and their witty banter would pick up right where it left off. But that wasn't reality, just a fantasy of the way he wished things were.

He'd betrayed her. Done the one thing Moloch told him he would do, and in turn her trust in him was no longer unwavering. No longer did her brown eyes look up at him with respect. Instead they betrayed her every time. The candor she'd once been willing to share with him was gone, and he hated himself for that.

Abbie remained silent as she watched him throw a few logs on the fire, reaching for the matches on the mantle. Light and warmth soon radiated from the hearth.

"There we are," Ichabod stood from his kneeling position, wiping his hands and chancing a glance back to where she stood. Her arms were wrapped around her as she shivered slightly.

"Are you alright, Lieutenant?" he asked, taking his coat off and starting to offer it to her.

"Oh," Abbie looked at the coat, "I'm okay, Crane. But thank you. I was actually going see if I could find some blankets in the linen closet," she took a step away from him, hitting the flashlight on her phone once more and disappearing down the hallway.

_She acts as if my proximity disgusts her_ , he mused, trying to shake the thought away. He moved into the kitchen, filling the kettle and turning the gas burner on.

"Would you care for some tea, Miss Mills?" he called to her, hearing her wet boots make contact with the hardwood as she reappeared carrying a few large blankets.

"Sure. Thanks."

He grabbed the largest one, helping her spread it on the floor in front of the fireplace. He repositioned the sofa slightly so it was facing the warmth and so they could rest their backs while they dried off. He watched as she removed her small boots carefully as well as the drenched socks.

"Ugh. I hate that feeling," she remarked with shiver, wrapping the blanket around her small frame.

"I couldn't agree more," he said, turning his attention back to the loud kettle and seeping the tea for a few moments. Abbie padded over to Crane's makeshift pallet, curling her feet under her petite frame and leaning against the sofa. He followed suit, carefully handing her the hot mug before removing his shoes and wrapping a blanket around himself. Her eyes followed him as he sat down beside her, getting comfortable.

"Well I certainly couldn't imagine fighting Moloch in this weather," Ichabod commented, if only to break the silence. Abbie grinned into her teacup, nodding.

"Me neither. I hate being wet and cold. Top three worst feelings ever."

_Suffocating in your son's grave must be number one or two._

Silence engulfed them again, as he looked at her, eyes fixed on the fireplace. her skin glowed in the light, her full lips still wearing a light shade of red. It had been obvious to him since the moment they'd met, but rarely did he have a free moment to appreciate her beauty. Her normally straight strands had reverted back to its curly texture, and one stubborn tendril kept falling in her eye. Before he could think better of it, he reached over, tucking it behind her ear gently. She glimpsed up at him with surprised eyes, an unreadable expression crossing her features. Thunder rolled outside, shaking what felt like the foundation of the cabin, and perhaps interrupting the moment between pulled the blanket around her once more.

"Lieutenant, I'd like to talk to you about something," he began, her brown eyes peeking at his as she took a sip of tea.

"Okay..." He heard the reluctance in her voice.

"You've claimed otherwise, but…I fear you're still upset with me about what transpired a few weeks ago."

Abbie shifted on the pallet, stretching her legs out in front of her and shaking her head. "I don't wanna talk about this right now, Crane. I'm fine. Just leave it alone."

She gazed back into the fireplace, crossing her arms. He turned to face her more, feeling his frustration rise as he let out a gruff sigh.

"Then when, exactly, is a good time for you to  _want_  to 'talk about it'?" She looked at him then, fire in her eyes. "We barely speak as it is, what with you seemingly repulsed by my very presence!"

"Crane-"

"I willingly left you there, to fight him alone. I will never forgive myself for that. I know you, Abbie. And I know that you are  _clearly_  not 'fine'. And we are certainly  _not_  'fine'."

Ichabod watched as she shrugged the blanket off her shoulders with a huff, sitting the mug aside and standing up. She sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

"Fine! You wanna know why I'm upset? I'm mad at myself. I fooled myself into thinking I could go at it alone. My personal feelings clouded my judgment and I made a mistake." Abbie could feel her hands trembling and her heart starting to race, her eyes glaring down at him, imploring him to understand. She'd let herself become vulnerable. Allowed herself to care too much for this stranger, her fellow Witness…her friend. And because of that, deep down, she wanted him to have a moment of happiness with Katrina. So she'd convinced herself that she could stay. That it was her destiny. But that wasn't what they were fighting for. Katrina wasn't supposed to help him save the world- she was. And she'd lost sight of that. Maybe they both had.

Crane's eyes searched hers, analyzing the meaning behind her words.  _What did she mean by personal feelings?_

"But you're right. I  _am_  mad at you, Crane. Because you didn't FIGHT for me. Not how I would've fought for you," Abbie felt emotion rise in her voice as she crossed her arms over her chest, watching him rise from his seated position, a perplexed look crossing his features.

"I tried to fight for you! Surely you can't believe that I  _wanted_  to leave you there," he saw the hurt in her eyes, a look all too familiar recently. He swallowed over the lump in his throat, her silence more telling than any words could be. She shrugged almost helplessly, walking over to the window as the rain beat against it.

"Abbie…" Crane said her name softly. He took a few strides toward her, standing a couple of feet behind where she stood watching as she wiped a hand over her cheek. She was crying.

"There hasn't been a moment since then that I don't regret our decision. I keep seeing the look of anguish on your face as I turned to leave purgatory. That wasn't the look of the confident woman I know you are. You were frightened. I realize what I did hurt you deeply. I betrayed your trust, and I know that isn't something you give away easily." He moved a step closer, resting his hands on her shoulders, the light fabric still damp from the rain. Abbie tensed slightly, feeling the heat emanating from his body, mere inches from hers. Her eyes closed involuntarily- and just like that they were back in the church. His arms wrapped around her frame holding her tight, telling her he'd come back for her no matter what.

She remembers clinging to that feeling in purgatory- warmth, safety, security- and feeling helpless as it slipped away with each passing hour.

A slight chill ran through her as his fingers ran along her arms.

"You must know that you've grown to mean…a great deal to me…" he paused, the faint smell of lavender invading his senses, making him more aware of their proximity. "I've felt inexplicably lost these last few weeks without your camaraderie," Ichabod felt the familiar sting of tears creep to his eyes, but blinked them away.

"I just pray that you'll find it in your heart to forgive me, Lieutenant."

Abbie felt the sincerity in his words and heard the sadness in his voice. She knew he'd meant every word. He needed her just as she needed him, something that had always seemed obvious in the grand scheme of being 'Witnesses', but now meant something on a deeper level.

Crane peered at the reflection in the window, worried that her silence meant she wanted nothing of his apology.

"Of course I forgive you." She caught a tear as it was falling from her eye, turning to face him. Relief washed over his features as earnest blue eyes met hers, the thunder clap rattling the window.

"I know in my heart that I can trust you. It's just going to take a little time," Abbie explained, watching him nod.

"I understand. You don't know how relieved I am to hear you say those words," he released a breath he'd unknowingly been holding, a small grin tugging at his lips. Crane glanced down, taking both of her hands in his. Abbie easily intertwined her fingers with his.

"I don't wish to hurt you again, Abbie. And I'd never do so intentionally," he told her, his eyes moving from their interlocked hands to her face.

She tried her best to ignore the butterflies growing in her stomach, but damn it if they weren't persistent. Especially when he looked at her  _like that_. Blue eyes that seemed to cut her to the core, make her weak in the knees, enrage, and entertain her. Sometimes all at once.

"I know you wouldn't, Crane," she knowingly gazed up at him, a smirk creeping to her lips.

Crane's eyes skimmed over her face, shapely doe eyes and full lips long ago committed to memory.

And then the strangest urge hit him, an aching desire like none he'd ever known, comparable to needing air.

Ichabod wanted to press his lips against hers in that second, pulling her midsection close so she was flush against him, his other hand lost in her curls.

He moved his eyes away from hers for a moment, afraid they would betray his thoughts. He mentally chastised himself for having such improper thoughts, unsure as to where they had come from.

Instead he released his hands from hers, pulling her to him as his arms wrapped around her petite frame.

Abbie relaxed in his embrace as she had before, letting out a small sigh as she felt his head rest atop hers.

His heart was racing.

* * *

**I hope you guys liked. It was just in my brain. I was having trouble capturing Ichabod's voice here, hope I did ok.**

**Reviews are love.**


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